Acorn & Winnie

“You know this is your race to lose.”

“Don’t say that.” I replied to Odin, my friend and competitor.

We were at the vet check for the Wolf Track Sled Dog Classic in Ely, Minnesota. Sure we had a fast team, but eight of the ten dogs had just raced hard a few days before in the UP 200 and two others, Winnie and Acorn, hadn’t run much in weeks.

Like most mushers, I have my favorites. Both Winnie and Acorn have run almost every race I’ve been in throughout the past four years. Winnie’s foot was frostbitten at the first race of the season, the White Oak, where the temperature dipped into the thirties below zero. He’s been our best dog since we got him four years ago and may be the best dog we ever had. His foot was healed in time for the Wolf Track race, but he hadn’t run in six weeks, except for a short training run two days prior. Winnie needed to — wanted to — race but I would be taking a chance that he was in good enough shape to run 130 miles.

Acorn was the first dog to have trouble in the Beargrease. We had to leave her with the vets at the Sawbill checkpoint only 120 miles into the race. She’d only run once since. But Acorn and I have a bond, a connection that goes beyond racing. She’s saved my life twice, and I owed it to her to give her a chance to race one more time this year.

Starting Out Strong

The trail from Ely through Tower to Cook had plenty of snow, and the temperatures were forecasted to be around zero, perfect for a fast sled dog race. Coming into the starting chute with Winnie and Acorn, the team had their heart back and were so excited to go that six handlers and I were fighting to keep them at the starting line. I drew the last starting time at the bib draw so every other team was ahead of us on the trail. We would have some passing to do, but the team looked up to the challenge.

The next sixty plus miles to Cook were a blur. The dogs were on fire, running as strong as they did in the first race of the season, the White Oak, where we placed second. It felt colder than zero, though, and I was glad for my heavy duty Tera Mar long underwear and full King snowsuit, but wished I had brought my fur mittens.

Dangerously Cold

About ten miles from Cook, I saw a dog team ahead with a headlamp that was waiving all over the trail like a searchlight. Driving my team up next to the team I saw who it was.

“Hey Tom, are you ok?”

“No I can’t see. My glasses are fogged up and I can’t fix em. How much further to the checkpoint.”

“It’s about ten miles I think. I’ll pull ahead of you here and see if your dogs will follow me in.”

“Thanks Frank. Damn, I can’t see a thing.”

For the next ten miles we slowed enough to keep Tom in sight behind us. When I’d look back, I’d see his headlamp waiving around in all directions as Tom kept trying to see the trail. I found out later that the temperature where we were traveling, through a low spruce bog, had dropped to 25 below. That along with a 20- to 30-mile headwind, had frozen Tom’s corneas. He recovered in a few days but had to scratch that night from the race.

Cook Checkpoint

Some dogs don't want to miss out on anything

Sled dog race checkpoints all have their own character, and some, like Cook, make an extra effort. Arriving in Cook just after 9 p.m., we ran through a trail lined with luminaries, passed two large campfires and into the dog staging area. I saw that only two other teams had arrived. We had already passed every other team but two, and the race was only half over. We were running fast, more than eleven miles an hour, and the team looked great.

We spent four and a half hours at Cook, where my handlers, Julie, Teri and Jay, helped me wrap wrists, feed, massage and bed down the team. As usual, Wolf and Ace sat up the whole time, with their blankets over their shoulders, not wanting to miss anything. They are such incredible dogs. Neither has ever had a slack tugline since their very first run as puppies. There’s no quit in them, ever.

Slowing Down

Winnie and Acorn both seemed a bit tired. The lack of training during the past six weeks had affected them, but as we started getting all the dogs up to go, putting new booties on them all, Winnie and Acorn resumed their roles as team leaders and started howling; the signal to the rest of the team that it was time to race.

With Wolf and Nita in lead and the whole team jumping and lunging, we got back on the trail for the return trip to Ely with a planned stop at the halfway checkpoint in Tower. We were rolling until the last ten miles, when we hit some hills outside of Tower. Acorn started to slow on the uphills and Winnie was a little slow on the downhill. I slowed the team down to their pace and we came into Tower still in third place.

One Last Rest

Every race has a minimum rest that your team needs to take at the various checkpoints. The Wolf Track requires eight hours. We had just over three hours left to take in Tower, enough to get everyone fed, massaged and bedded down. Winnie and Acorn went to sleep immediately, a sign they were getting tired. Ace and Wolf still sat up looking around.

At 7:30, a half hour before our scheduled departure, we started to rouse the dogs and give them a little meat broth. Again, everyone appeared excited to go, but I looked closely at Acorn and Winnie. Here were my seasoned warriors, my most trusted friends, and I had to decide whether we would go on together or whether I’d leave without them. We were now a half hour behind the first and second place teams after slowing down a bit at the end of the last run, so we weren’t likely to catch them.

Tough Decisions

Looking back, there were a group of teams ten to twenty minutes behind us that I wanted to stay ahead of. These decisions are always so tough for me. Leaving friends and teammates behind tears me up. Often, it’s in the best interest of the dogs and the rest of the team. But for me, we’re in this together. Maybe I just put that idea on the dogs, too. Acorn and Winnie would be slower than the rest of the team. I knew that, but their actions — howling like usual — told me they wanted to go. I couldn’t say no. We’d all finish this thing we started together, and we’d take whatever place that left us in.

Arriving at the starting chute a few minutes early, I had some time to thank our handlers and my best friends, our dogs: Wolf, Nita, Storm, Moo, Cowboy, Ace, Tina, Jake and Acorn and Winnie. Holding Winnie and then Acorn brought tears to my eyes. We had been in this same place so many times, the last run of a race. Acorn licked my face and, trying to be the tough musher, I covered my face with my glove, thinking I was hiding my tears from our handlers, the race judges and fans. Catching the eyes of Teri and Julie, I saw they were crying too. We were seeing a team of dogs giving so much and then still being willing to go again, for one more run.

Finishing With Friends

The run from Tower to Ely travels along the south edge of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area on a trail lined with towering red and white pines and views of cliff-lined border lakes. We traveled only as fast as Winnie and Acorn could comfortably go, and while it didn’t allow us to challenge the leaders, it kept us in third place. Every dog came to the finish line in Ely looking strong, including Acorn and Winnie. Going up the team, I hugged and thanked them all. Acorn and Winnie both gave me big licks. It would be their last race of the year, and both being seven, they don’t have many race years left. I was happy to have finished one more race with my two best dogs, my best friends.